What Fools We've Been
by bxblover
Summary: Blaine missed his chance in high school to tell Kurt he loved him. Now they're living together in New York, and Blaine's had quite enough of going without. Klaine. Rated M for...well, a reason. Haha.
1. Out of Reach

Title: What Fools We've Been

Started: 10/26/11 2:25 a.m.

Finished: u/k

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or its respective characters.

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><p><span>Prologue:<span>

Blaine had fallen head over heels for Kurt in high school after the countertenor sang Blackbird. The only problem was, Blaine wasn't the only Warbler moved by the performance, and somebody beat him to the punch. The next thing he knew Kurt was gushing over his first date with a boy and begging Blaine for advice. So he reluctantly slipped back into the role of mentor, and allowed his friend to be happy. He didn't trust James at first, but as long as Kurt was happy (a mantra that Blaine repeated to himself religiously just to live through the pain of watching Kurt with another guy) that was all that mattered.

They dated for the rest of high school and even moved to New York together, leaving Blaine stuck in Lima to finish out his senior year without his best friend in the world. And then Kurt called him at 2:30 in the morning the day before Regionals, sobbing about James cheating on him. Blaine listened, cried a little, and soothed his friend through the anger.

"You know, I don't think he's ever been seriously invested in this relationship! I mean he gave me a goodbye song when I transferred, but he didn't go to prom with me! And for God's sake he didn't even come to McKinley! You did! You know what, fuck him; I don't need him! And he sure as hell isn't getting this apartment! He can go live with his precious boy toy in a hovel somewhere. I'm better than that asshole anyway!"

"Damn right you are!" He agreed fervently, never wanting to confess his feelings more than at that moment. Just so Kurt could see that there was someone out there who would love him unconditionally, and would _never _cheat on him and break his heart. But he was vulnerable, and hurting. A confession like that would only confuse him. It was not the time. So Blaine kept it to himself, saying instead, "And why should Kurt Hummel have to settle for a man who wears _midriff_ _tops_?"

His friend let out a harsh, breathy laugh. "I _know_, right?" He paused for a long time then, and Blaine just allowed him to process his thoughts.

"Thank you, Blaine."

"…You're welcome, Kurt."

So Kurt kicked the bastard out, and by the time Blaine graduated the apartment still had a spare bedroom, so like an idiot, he accepted Kurt's suggestion that they be roommates. When he moved to the city Kurt was still single, so he thought of it as an opportunity to act on the feelings that had been stewing inside for so long.

After Blaine had moved in they spent a whole day just exploring the town. Kurt showed him the hot spots, the best places to shop, best places to eat, and of _course_ the best place to get coffee. Blaine thought it must have been fate talking; spending a perfect day together and closing it out with coffee, just like in high school. But just as he was about to lay everything out on the table, figuratively speaking, Kurt announced that he'd met someone the day before, and was planning on a date that weekend. Blaine was crushed.

That was two years ago, and since then Kurt had one boyfriend, a few one-night stands, and countless dates. Well, probably not countless, but to Blaine they might as well have been. Kurt didn't invite that many guys back to the apartment; so few in fact Blaine could count them on one hand. But when he did, he was loud. Kurt was…very loud.

Blaine was convinced by now that someone in the universe had it out for him, and was punishing him in the most vicious ways possible for not snagging Kurt up when he had the chance. He couldn't remember what crappy TV show he'd seen it on, but apparently there was an expiration date on asking out a friend before you remain permanently caught in the 'friend zone.' So in some sick, twisted way, it was _When Harry Met Sally_…but nobody was getting together at the end.

Chapter 1

"Blaaaine! Bla—ow! Blaine, have you seen my vibrator?"

Blaine closed his eyes and held his hand to his head. _Worst. Roommate. Ever_!

Kurt came storming out of his bedroom and started digging through drawers. Man on a mission.

"What kind of question is that," Blaine demanded. Bad enough to be hopelessly in love with a guy as gorgeous as Kurt. He really didn't need images of the other man touching himself to fuel his fantasies.

His friend threw up his hands in frustration. "I just can't remember where it was last time I used it."

"Well, typically, you place a vibrator—"

"You know what I mean!"

"Did you check the top drawer, where it always is?" Blaine stopped what he was doing and gave a reflective pause. "You know, we might be at the point of being too comfortable with each other if I know where you keep your vibrator."

Kurt rolled his eyes, then snapped his fingers with a grin. "Oh yeah, I left it in the bathroom so I could use it after my shower!"

Blaine about snapped his pencil in half. Naked, dripping Kurt, writhing around the vibrator in pleasure as it—

"Why are you even looking for it? I thought you had a date with that Jacob guy the other night."

"I didn't _sleep_ with him Blaine. Besides, I'm just bored."

"So you relieve boredom by relieving _yourself_."

"Exactly," Kurt agreed breezily, and waltzed into the bathroom.

Blaine held his pencil suspended in midair, horrified. "Wait a minute…you're not gonna use it right _now_ are you?"

A breathy laugh escaped the open door of the bathroom. "Of course not; I'm not addicted to it you know."

"I don't know, Kurt. I'm beginning to think I should cut you off. Pretty soon that thing will end up as your boyfriend."

His friend emerged from the bathroom with a mirthless laugh. "Yeah; won't it though?"

Blaine was a little taken aback at the lack of a snarky retort, but he let it go. He really didn't want to keep talking about Kurt and vibrators anyway. "So listen, I was thinking of doing a few original songs for tonight; I wanted to know what you thought."

The brunette grinned and happily bounded over to the desk, leaning over Blaine's shoulder. "Excellent idea! Which ones did you want to do?"

"Well, I was gonna open with their song, of course, but then I thought I could do _In a Dream_. Do a couple standards, then sneak in _Precious_ somewhere—"

Kurt gasped and clapped excitedly. "Oh my God, yes! _Precious_ is _so_ beautiful Blaine; it's perfect for a wedding."

He blushed at the compliment, feeling a private sense of pride.

"Any other originals?"

"Um…well I was thinking about _Feet First_," he supplied, pointing to the next name on his list. He saw Kurt eyeing the song with pursed lips.

"Hm…well I don't know. _Feet First_ is great, but for a wedding? Nah. _In a Dream_, _Precious_, and—ooh! I know! You should do _Yours_! I love that one!"

Blaine scoffed and circled the title. "You say that about all my songs."

"And what does that tell you," Kurt asked, and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Blaine's shoulders and trapping him in a hug. "You're a brilliant songwriter Blaine. These provincial coffeehouse managers and wedding planners have no _idea_ how lucky they are to have you. And someday they'll be crying in their cash registers because you'll be a famous, chart-topping musician and they let you slip through their fingers." He concluded his little sermon with a smacking kiss to Blaine's cheek and a tight squeeze around his neck.

Blaine smiled woefully and covered Kurt's hand with his. Of course it wasn't Kurt's fault that every time he said supportive things like that it felt like he was tugging at the band-aid Blaine mended his heart with. But damnit did the words sting; especially when all he wanted to do afterwards was give Kurt a big hug and smother him with grateful kisses.

Instead he just leaned back into the touch, stroking his thumb over his friend's hand. Hands had always been their thing. Of all the guys that he'd seen Kurt with, none of them really seemed that big on hand-holding. And it was something that Blaine took a little vindictive glee from; being the only guy in Kurt's life that _got_ how special that kind of connection was, _and_ being the only guy who shared it.

"Thanks Kurt," he replied earnestly. "That always helps get me through these horribly cliché weddings. After they switch to a DJ I get so bored."

The thinner male laughed playfully. "There's always the open bar. Anyway that's because you're so pure of heart you don't think of weddings as a social occasion."

Blaine, puzzled, tilted his head upwards to meet Kurt's eyes. His friend shook his head in disbelief. "Do you have any idea how many opportunities you're missing to get laid? My God Blaine; the songs you sing, the way you sing them, _and_ dressing to the nines? Just how many pairs of underwear fall the floor when you perform, I wonder."

He laughed uncomfortably. "I'm not _that_ popular Kurt."

"How many brides have asked for your number again?"

"…Okay, four, but that's not the point," he defended, and tried to pull out of the hug. He'd found that it was harder keeping up the façade when they shared physical contact. "I don't like one-offs. It just doesn't do it for me the way it does for you."

"So who says it has to be a one-off? Say you meet someone you really like and invite him over for the night. You make him a fantastic breakfast the next day, offer a coffee date, and then proceed to sweep him off his feet, Blaine Style."

He shot Kurt a look. "I didn't know I _had_ a style."

"Dapper Dork, of course," Kurt told him smugly. Blaine burst out laughing.

"Gee, that must be so effective," he said, still giggling.

"Hey, it worked on me." Kurt retorted.

Blaine froze, his stomach doing a flip-flop. "Really?"

"Sure! Well, you know, back in high school. When I actually had a crush on you and stuff," he said dismissively, and sauntered into the kitchen with a reminiscent chuckle.

Blaine felt that lump in his throat again. The one that always came up whenever Kurt chose to tactlessly remind him that his feelings of romantic inclinations were in the _past_. He rose to his feet and gathered up his music sheets, forcing back the anguish. "Well, that's good to know at least," he stated, trying to sound optimistic.

"Good! So you go ahead and find yourself a warm body. Then bring him back here and have yourself some well-deserved sex. I mean God, what's it been—"

"I don't really know," he interrupted, his cheeks flaming at the thought of elaborating on his sexual drought to Kurt. "So what are you gonna do all night?"

Kurt shrugged one shoulder and grinned devilishly, plucking a grape from the fruit bowl on the little island in the kitchen. "I guess I'll get reacquainted with my boyfriend," he said with a wink, and sucked the grape into his mouth with just his lips.

Blaine turned around to pick up his guitar case and grimaced. _Wonderful. So while I'm supposed to be concentrating on heartfelt songs about love and commitment I'll wind up picturing you fucking yourself on a vibrator. Yeah. Thanks for that, Kurt. Thanks a lot_.

_Meanest._

_Roommate. _

_Ever._

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><p>Blaine slammed down his second Long Island Iced-Tea and gave a small hiccup, patting the bartender's arm to get her attention. "A-and who the hell does he think he is? Sending me out of the apartment just to get me <em>laid<em>, when all I want…is him! I could be doing _him_ right now! Do you know what _he's_ doing right now," he asked confidentially. "A _virbator_!" He frowned to himself. That wasn't right. "A varbator! Barbados! No! A vibrator! H-he's doing…a goddamn _vibrator_, a-and I haven't fucked a guy since…i-it's just simple math. I should be that vibrator! I want him so freakin' bad…"

A burly-looking man approached the bar, knocking on the wooden surface. "Missy? This guy giving you trouble?"

"No, I find him hilarious," the bartender replied, her face resting on her hand and looking thoroughly amused. "If the guests start complaining then you can haul him out, but for now he can stay here. I've already cut him off."

Blaine grinned at the young woman and reached over to pinch her cheek. "You're pretty awesome, Missy!"

"Excuse me," a soft voice called, and Blaine whirled around—_whoo, spinny room_!—to find a tall, willowy redhead giving him a roguish smile. "I heard you sing. You're so talented."

Blaine nodded with a grin. "Well thanks! I ge-get that a lot." He gestured to the two empty seats next to him. "Come on, have a seat. My name's Blaine."

"Kevin," the ginger replied, grinning eagerly as he sat down.

Blaine stared thoughtfully at a cocktail peanut. "So! Are you a friend of the bride, or the groom Kevin?"

"I'm the bride's brother. I didn't recognize that third song you did."

"Oh. Well that's because you've never heard it before Kevin," Blaine informed him, patting his arm then going back to the peanut. "I wrote it myself."

"You write your own songs? That's really impressive."

"Yep. Yep, I do, Kevin. And yep. Yep it is, Kevin."

"Uh…" His new friend chuckled awkwardly. "Can I ask why you're ending every sentence with my name?"

Blaine shrugged and flicked the peanut into his empty glass. "Kevin starts with a K. I like K. Knight, knife, kibble, kraken, Kurt…Kurt…"

"Oh, like in Sound of Music," the other man asked curiously, and Blaine smiled companionably at him.

"You betcha Kevin! Like in Sound of Music! Kaleidoscope, keelhaul, key, keyhole—"

"Kiss," Kevin suggested, his voice heavy and low.

Blaine slowly turned away from his glass and stared at the other man with a scrutinizing eye. He was pretty tall and slender, but not a stick. He had very striking green eyes, a from-a-box smile, and pretty cheekbones. His voice was low, but it was sweet and just slightly accented. His tux fit him like a dream, and he had a neatly trimmed waist to match his well-coiffed hair. All in all, Kevin was pretty damn cute.

"Okay," Blaine said amiably, and flung his arm out, catching Kevin by the neck and pulling him in. He missed his lips, instead landing on a petite ear. He tried to play it off like that was his goal the whole time, and whispered against it, "You wanna come back to my place?"

Kevin pulled back for a moment and grinned at Blaine like he'd just won the lottery. "Really?"

"Sure," he agreed, wobbling onto his feet. _Kurt's always telling me to get laid, so I'll get laid_. "Boy won't my roommate be surprised."

"O-oh you have a roommate? Maybe we should go to my place instead," the other man advised, but Blaine wouldn't have it.

"No no, it's fine. He'll be happy for me," he rushed to assure, realizing with a modicum of anger that it was probably true. _Well fine. If he's happy for me, I'm happy for me_.

Blaine clumsily ran his fingers up the lapel of Kevin's jacket, smirking broadly. "Let's get a cab, shall we Kev?"

TBC

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><p><strong>EDIT: 14 alerts, 8 faves and no feedback? :( Aww; come on guys!<strong>

**Oh my, bringing a boy back to the apartment; Blaine's all grown up! Why did I write this when I have all this other crap to do? …Honestly, I was feeling a little vindictive towards Blaine at the time, and it started out as a drabble. But then I got over it, and the idea expanded. So don't worry, 'Poor Blaine' won't stay Poor Blaine for long. ;) Again, sorry to spam your inboxes, but my brain's on hyper-drive lately; lol.**


	2. Crossing the Line

Title: What Fools We've Been

Started: 10/26/11 2:25 a.m.

Finished: u/k

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or its respective characters.

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><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

"Y-you sure you wanna take off? It was my idea in the first place, so it's-it's-it's not—ahem! It's not like you're taking advantage of a drunk guy!"

Kevin gave him a sad smile as he hoisted Blaine the last few steps. "Oh I'm definitely sure. It just doesn't seem like a good time."

Blaine blew a raspberry and snapped his fingers. "Well, damn! No sex tonight. Or any other night! …That bastard."

Kevin blushed and checked the number on the door. "Now are you _sure_ you've got the right apartment number?"

"…5…0…3. Yup! This is my hoome! I'm home sweet home," he sang, waving a hand in the air as Kevin tried to steady him.

"Shh, shh, Blaine! It's two-thirty in the morning," he hissed admonishingly.

Blaine pursed his lips at the redhead. "When did I tell you my name?"

Kevin just laughed and hauled Blaine to a stand. He straightened his tie and smiled sadly again. "Call me sometime," he asked.

"Okie dokie!" Blaine saluted, and then turned to the door, reaching into his jacket pocket for the keys. "A-and yo-you don't have to wait Kevin, I'm sure I got the right place." He turned back around, his fist still buried in his pocket. "So you just go ahead and ge—oh…"

Kevin was already trotting down the steps.

"Pfft! Fine! Be that way. I'm-I'm…I'm going home then." He forced his hand harder into his pocket, accidentally ripping out the bottom. "Damnit…well at least I got the keys out." He bent down to pick them up, only to fall on his face.

So there he was. Totally drunk, all alone, his ass in the air right in front of his apartment, and probably smelling like cheap liquor.

"This was a lovely idea," he growled, and cautiously pulled himself up, snatching the keys on the way. Still on his knees he unlocked the door and waddled inside the apartment.

He sighed in relief when he saw the lights in Kurt's bedroom were still on. Kurt would help sober him up. "C-coffee…," he whispered, staggering to his feet. "G-gotta…Kurt and me…coffee…" He flung off his suit jacket, not even caring where it landed. In his state he didn't really care about the fee for a ruined rental tux.

He was angrily muttering something about sea-foam green wedding colors when he made it to Kurt's doorway, and just as he was about to make an entreaty for caffeine, he felt his heart stop.

Kurt was sound asleep. He looked adorable, like usual, with his mouth hanging open and his hair hanging over his eyes. But he was naked. Kurt was naked.

Blaine started hyperventilating, and his heart regained rhythm long enough to beat a jig against his ribcage. _Why is he naked? How in the hell can he be naked_?

He panicked for a moment as he realized that maybe Kurt wasn't okay. His eyes roamed the room, looking for other signs of distress. Kurt was stretched out, spread eagle on _top_ of his beloved Ralph Lauren bedding, the nightstand was open, which was unusual, and next to Kurt's loose fist was…

_The vibrator_.

"Jesus," he whispered, his eyes going wide as he pieced together what must have happened. Sure enough, come was drying on Kurt's pale stomach, and his fingers still had a slight sheen from the lube. Blaine's pants tightened at the sight—at the _idea_, and he held back a gasp at how quickly he was reacting.

His mind, hazy as it was, screamed at him: _Get the hell out, shut the door, and pretend you never saw anything_! But his body remained stationary, frozen in the doorway as he shamefully gazed his fill over what he thought he'd never get to see.

Kurt's cock was lying flaccidly against his leg, the flesh red and curved and thick. The patch of brown hair at the base was dense, but well-trimmed. He was smaller than Blaine, but not by much, and he still looked positively delectable.

Blaine licked his lips and took a step forward. _No! Are you crazy? This is wrong, on like a million different levels! This isn't some guy you'll never see again, this is _Kurt_! Your best friend, remember? Just calmly shut the door, go to your room, jerk off, and call it a night._

He stepped back and ran a hand through his hair, frustration growing inside of him like fire. He knew it was the right thing to do, but going to his room and getting off all by himself seemed like very poor consolation when the object of all his fantasies was lying right there. Naked, beautiful, and probably sated from an orgasm. It made Blaine groan, imagining Kurt writhing against the bed and shouting into the quiet room as he teased himself with the toy, maybe stroking himself up front to double his pleasure.

Blaine brought a hand down to his pants, trying to calm down. He certainly didn't want his first sexual experience with Kurt to be clouded by alcohol, but damnit he wasn't thinking clearly! He could feel the blood pounding through his head like a freight train.

_Just who does he think he is anyway? He can't just masturbate buck naked with the door wide open; he's not the only one who lives here! God, what if I'd been a rapist or something_?

The fact that the rather devious turn his thoughts were taking weren't much better than that of a rapist conveniently slipped his muddled brain.

_And touching himself like that. When I live right in the next room and would be more than happy to give him a hand. When I want him…have wanted him…so badly. How long does he plan on torturing me_?

"Cruelest…roommate…ever," he muttered, and his mind traitorously wondered what exactly Kurt pictured as he touched himself.

_If this were high school…he would have been thinking of me. _

It was a ridiculous thought. A pipe dream and a pathetic fantasy, but the moment the idea sparked in Blaine's head it was like lighting a match. And before his conscience could scream out another protest he removed his hand from his pants and fell to the edge of the bed.

He swallowed harshly, and trembling hands reached up and softly clasped pale hips. He leaned in a little closer, for the moment content to just breathe in the husky scent of sex, masculinity and Kurt. His eyelids fell shut, a new kind of intoxication swimming in his blood and making him feel reckless. He gently pressed his hips against the bed, his cock already achingly hard and straining against the rented pants. Then, very cautiously so as not to wake his sleeping angel, he wrapped his right hand around the base of Kurt's cock. He was soft now, but just a few hours ago he'd been hard. Hard and coming with a vibrator inside of him. Blaine gasped at the image and his watering mouth fell open with it. The plumpest part of his bottom lip just grazed the head, and he shuddered, his hand beginning a slow, conscientious stroke.

"Kurt," he whispered reverently, already feeling his friend responding to his touch. The countertenor moaned in his sleep and fidgeted lightly against the sheets. Blaine waited a few agonizing moments for Kurt to still again, then went back to his work. The flesh beneath his fingers was still velvety smooth, but any signs of 'soft' were fading fast, and in less than a minute Kurt came to full hardness. Blaine's eyes widened in wonder at just beautiful Kurt's cock was. He'd never wanted anything so badly in his life. With a shaky sigh, he languorously slid his tongue from the base to the tip.

Other than a slight twitch and more squirming against the mattress Kurt remained still. So Blaine continued, letting his eager tongue stroke anywhere it wanted: the prominent vein pulsing on the left side, the minute ridge just under the head, the slit at the tip; everything he could reach he explored thoroughly with soft, curious kitten licks.

Kurt sighed pleasurably in his sleep, and Blaine thrilled to hear it. So many times he'd fantasized about this moment, and even though he craved the wall-cracking screams he knew the countertenor could make, he'd settle for being able to bring Kurt pleasure even as he slept.

He'd given a couple blowjobs in his life, but they were always a means to an end for his partner; he couldn't recall ever taking personal pleasure from the act. But this. He moaned, his mouth getting hotter as he continued to lick and tease the sensitive skin. Kurt was warm and salty, throbbing and so damn _hard_ against his tongue he wondered just for a moment how that heavy girth would feel _truly_ inside him. Blaine whined and his hips jerked in a wordless plea, his erection rubbing against the bed, and he remembered that it would be _Kurt_ inside of him. This was _Kurt_, the boy he loved more than anyone else in the world. With a possessive growl he opened his mouth and brought his lips down over Kurt's dick.

He felt the full weight of it against his tongue and _dear God_ it tasted _so_ good, so fucking _huge_ he started sucking ravenously, hungry for any and every part of Kurt that he could get at.

He heard a loud gasp from above, but he was so lost in what he was doing—Jesus_, Kurt. More…Mmm_—he didn't even think to realize that he should stop what he was doing. Immediately.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, sounding confused and groggy from sleep. After a moment he seemed to realize what was happening, and his voice rang with shock. "B-Blaine! Wha—what are you…"

All Blaine could think was _he's so _adorable_ when he first wakes up_, and flattened his tongue against the head before curling it around the ridge.

"Ahh!" Kurt's head thunked against the headboard and a smooth hand came down to tangle in Blaine's curls. He almost wept with relief when Kurt didn't pull him off, and then changed tactics. Now that Kurt was awake he could focus on getting him to make noise. Those piercing, heartbreaking noises he'd been forced to endure for months, months of knowing that it wasn't _him_ making Kurt scream with pleasure. But now, it was just the two of them, the way it should have been all along.

He hummed against the rigid flesh, making sure the sound reverberated throughout his mouth. Kurt arched into him, gasping quietly again and moaning softly. Blaine's brow furrowed at the absence of any real volume. So he hallowed his cheeks, sucking with more vigor. Kurt cried out at that, but the sound was small; barely a yelp.

Blaine didn't know what was wrong. Physically, Kurt's responses were passionate and enthusiastic. His hips were bucking out of time and one hand was digging his sharp nails into Blaine's shoulder while the other one was gently stroking and tugging at his curls. And yes that was wonderful, but he was beginning to get frustrated at how silent Kurt was being when he could vengefully recall just how vocal the paler man had been with some of his lovers in the past. Blaine wanted that for _himself_.

He widened his mouth and took Kurt in as deep as possible. As he slid his mouth up and down he strained to hear something, anything to tell him that his hard work wasn't going unnoticed, until he felt Kurt's dick reach the back of his throat.

_Oh my god, _fuck! It felt like that simple caress set him on fire, and suddenly all he cared about was feeling, tasting, _swallowing_ all of Kurt. He groaned helplessly, sweating and writhing against the sheets and he bobbed his head, picking up speed and going even deeper, gripping narrow hips with almost bruising force. _He's so fucking hot_—_tastes so good!_

The countertenor's slim fingers pulled his hair. "B-Blai…wait…I haven't—I-I've never…"

Blaine couldn't hear him; too caught up in how amazingly hot and delicious and _right_ Kurt felt in his mouth. He doubled his efforts, sucking and licking and gasping until suddenly he felt his friend go rigid beneath his hands, and Kurt bucked into Blaine's mouth one more time as he climaxed, flailing and clenching his fists against the younger man's back.

"Oh-oh my God—_Blaine_!" Kurt yelled out, and it didn't sound anything like those shrill screams he'd overheard through the walls all those times. It was raw, involuntary and deep, and so _so_ sexy.

The intimacy of what they were doing, the hot spurts against his tongue, the way his name fell unbidden from those angelic lips all crashed into him at once, and he came without even touching himself, rolling his hips forcefully into the mattress as ecstasy burst from his stomach and ricocheted everywhere until his skin tingled.

He released Kurt and panted heavily against his belly, thumbs lovingly stroking over his hip bones.

"Blaine," he whispered from above, his voice soft and pleading.

Blaine immediately crawled up the bed until he could face Kurt directly. His shiny blue eyes stared back at him, wet and wide and shocked with just a soupcon of satisfaction all at the same time. He looked like he had something to say, and Blaine was more than ready to listen. If he could just plant supplicating kisses on those bitten pink lips until they were bruised and swollen, then they could talk from now until doomsday; whatever Kurt wanted.

But Blaine fell asleep.

TBC

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><p><strong>Whew! Yay I did it! I have to admit, I'm usually allergic to bottom Blaine, but it really just seemed fit there, just for a moment. And I'd really appreciate some constructive feedback on this one, because I've never written a blowjob in such detail before. Don't misunderstand, if you keyboard-smash liked it, I love that kind of feedback too. ;P I'm afraid the next update will take a lot longer; my finals are coming around, and I really should be a good girl and focus on school. :( But thanks for all the interest everyone! Please tell me what you think so far!<strong>


	3. Forgiven

Title: What Fools We've Been

Started: 10/26/11 2:25 a.m.

Finished: u/k

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or its respective characters.

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><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

Blaine groaned at the clouding, familiar headache. He clutched at his scalp and saw that he was still in the trousers he'd rented for the wedding. _What the hell_…

"Where am I," he asked the empty room.

He heard a soft chuckle and looked up. Kurt was standing in the doorway, stirring a drink with a teasing, indiscernible smile on his face.

"I'm getting a _major_ sense of déjà vu here."

Blaine didn't quite understand the joke, but he hesitantly sat up, something in his mind telling him that he should feel like the lowest scum on the face of the earth. But he didn't know why. All he knew was there was something very important nagging at the back of his head…besides the persistent pounding.

"Wha…what happened last night?"

Kurt stopped stirring and eyed Blaine with surprised curiosity. "You don't remember?"

Blaine blinked and frowned, trying his damndest to do just that. He caught glimpses of skin…the taste of sweat…heat…he heard the faint echo of Kurt's voice uttering his name as he…

His eyes widened, and the torrent of memories attacked him like a slap to the face.

"Ohh…my God," he moaned, burying his face in his hands.

"Ahh, there it is!" Kurt laughed and sat at the foot of the bed. He handed Blaine the steaming mug. "Have some cocoa."

Blaine reached for it, puzzled. "What, no coffee?"

"Well that was what I reached for, but we're out. Can you imagine? _Us_, out of coffee!"

Blaine sipped hesitantly. "That's impossible; I picked some up the other—wait, why the hell are we talking about coffee? I violated you in your _sleep_! Ow…" He winced, cradling his head.

Kurt only laughed again. "Oh God Blaine; you didn't _violate_ me—"

"You were asleep! You were asleep, so you couldn't consent, and I took advantage of you anyway! Oh my God, I can't believe I did that! And to _you_ of all people!" He shamefully hid his face in his hands, bitter tears leaking from his sore eyes as the guilt burned his chest.

"Blaine, Blaine, calm down," Kurt scooted up the bed so they were sitting side by side. "Come on, it's okay. I'm not mad at you."

"Not mad at me?" He shouted in disbelief, and winced again. He was gonna _have_ to stop yelling. "Kurt, after what I did you should be kicking me out! Or at least kicking me in the balls."

"Would you please take it easy? Don't do that whole Blaine thing."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "What whole Blaine thing?"

Kurt gently put an arm on his shoulder and started rubbing back and forth affectionately, his eyes still full of mirth. "That thing where the minute you make a mistake you guilt yourself into thinking you're the worst person on the planet. And believe me, you're not."

Blaine stared back at his friend's neutral expression completely flabbergasted. "Kurt…I-I came back here and I…sucked you off in your sleep. I'm your best friend, you're supposed to be able to trust me."

"I do, silly," Kurt told him, reaching up and gently stroking at his curls. "And I've been around the block a few times, so it's not like you did some devious new move that scarred me for life. It's no big deal."

His stomach did an angry little twist and his fingernails dug into his knees._ Why is he taking this so lightly_?

"Besides, it's not _entirely _your fault."

Blaine paused halfway to his cocoa, his mouth hanging open. "What?"

Kurt took his hand, squeezing as he smiled sadly. "I found the note in your jacket pocket from that Kevin guy."

Blaine's choked, and he almost dropped his mug on Kurt's bed. Maybe _that_ would get him the tongue-lashing he deserved.

"He left a note?"

Kurt fished into his pocket and pulled out a worn, folded piece of paper.

_Hey Blaine. _

_I think you're really cool and everything, but I wasn't really comfortable following through with our initial plans, given your condition. I do like you though, and you're pretty damn cute if I do say so myself. So I'd love to meet you for a drink sometime and see if this can go somewhere. _

_Kevin, with a K. ;)_

Underneath the note he wrote his phone number in plain script, and Blaine felt his grip weaken around the paper. He nervously looked up at Kurt, but the brunette was only smiling fondly at him.

"It's obvious what happened; you came home drunk, expecting to get laid, and you saw me naked, so your wires got crossed. You mistook me for him."

Blaine's eyes were blown wide and his heart started pounding as hard as his head. _No! No, no, no, that's not it at all_! His moral compass might have taken a nosedive from the alcohol, but he _never_ forgot who he was doing it to.

"Kurt—"

"Relax," he wrapped his arm around both of Blaine's shoulders and rubbed soothingly. "It's been a long time for you Blaine. And believe me, I understand the frustration of sex deprivation mixed with alcohol. Remember that time I told you about, when I got wasted on Pink Squirrels and fucked a jar of marshmallow fluff?"

Blaine snorted and blushed into his cocoa.

"See? People do weird things when they're drunk. I know you never would have done what you did sober."

_The blowing you part, or the blowing you in your sleep part_?

"And since I'm not mad at you, why should you be mad at yourself?"

"Because what I did was reprehensible!"

"Oh, I don't know about that. I thought it was pretty fun," he said, giving Blaine's shoulders a playful squeeze.

He really didn't know what to do; he didn't want Kurt to think that he only did it because he was horny and the guy he came home with left even before walking in. But at the same time it seemed like an incredibly tacky way to admit to being in love with someone: _Yeah, I've been over-the-moon in love with you for years so I gave you a drunken blowjob last night_. Just thinking it to himself made Blaine shudder in self-reproach.

He felt Kurt's hand on his cheek, pulling him and drawing their eyes together. His beautiful eyes had lost their humor and were staring back at him, solemn and kind. "_Please_ don't beat yourself up over this Blaine. You _are_ my best friend, but you're also human. You're allowed to make mistakes. And if it's what you need to hear, I forgive you. Okay?"

He was most definitely not okay. Even after committing such a deplorable sin, Kurt not only still regarded him as a best friend, he _forgave_ him. Blaine wondered if he still would have been forgiven if the countertenor knew how he felt. The words were there, resting on the tip of his tongue and ready to burst. But in the face of those compassionate eyes and the warm hand on his cheek, Blaine had never felt less deserving of Kurt's love. His chest heaved and he swallowed thickly, feeling the flood in his eyes again. Kurt's eyes glazed in sympathy and pulled him into a full-on hug.

"It's okay…I forgive you Blaine. I forgive you."

"I don't know how you can," Blaine choked, taking comfort in the warmth of the slender neck against his cheek. "God I…I didn't even kiss you afterwards."

Kurt snorted and stroked Blaine's curls. "Well, don't kiss me now. You're hung over and you have morning breath. Ew."

Blaine laughed helplessly through his tears.

TBC

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><p><strong>Yes, a bit short, but I figured hey, an update's an update. I'm both surprised and warmed at all the lovely feedback you guys have written. :) Your opinions mean a lot to me, so I hope to keep hearing back. Hugs all around! Thank you for all the interest everyone! :D<strong>

**EDIT: OMG! Over 100 Alerts for this thing? You GUYS! That has never happened to me before! SUPER hugs and glomps all around! I'll try for speedy updates so I don't let you down!**


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